


All-Knowing

by coveredbyroses



Series: The Porn Wars [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Restraints, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 11:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21409174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredbyroses/pseuds/coveredbyroses
Summary: This is what happens when an Archangel uses your kinks against you.
Relationships: Michael!Dean/You
Series: The Porn Wars [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1338178
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	All-Knowing

“You see…” Michael’s fingertips run a burning trail down your throat, pulsing at the hollow before dragging down between the valley of your full, bare breasts, then scrapes his fingernails down the soft length of your belly. “I am… all-knowing.” Stolen emerald eyes glint under the smoky shadow of his tweed cap, and a corner of his mouth is tucked up into a lazy smirk as he starts to palm at your naked cunt. Teeth gleaming, he brings his free hand up to tap two fingers against your temple. “I know everything in here… I know what gets you weak-kneed and…” His grin broadens. “Compliant.”

You pull in a shaky breath and swallow as you uselessly tug at the cuffs clasped snug around your wrists. The chains secured to the ceiling ring off a taunting rattle, and your arms burn with the long stretch.

Shit.

You’ve fought demons and angels alike, but this? This is the big leagues. You didn’t even see it - or _him_ \- coming. In a single moment of hesitation, he’d had you disarmed and naked, strung up in the bunker’s chilly dungeon.

Your mind battles with defiance and fear - and despite your best efforts, fear is winning.

“Please,” you try, the words tumbling over your lips thin and airy. “Please let me go.”

Icy grin unfaltering, Michael dips his chin to level cold eyes with yours. “Oh, I will,” he says. “Soon.” There’s a faint twinge of hope curling in your gut, but the menacing shimmer of his eyes quickly dams it back down.

Thick fingers swirl at your entrance, right where you’re horrifyingly wet. “I know,” the Archangel croons, voice unnervingly silky. “Keep telling yourself that you don’t want this, that it’s just your traitorous body responding to simple touch.” He works two fingers into the slick heat of you, rasps his thumb over your clit. You gasp. “But we both know that isn’t true. Don’t we?”

You’re shaking already, eyes clamped shut because you just can’t look at him - but it doesn’t stop his warmth from bleeding into you, doesn’t stop the steady pumping and curling of his fingers.

“I know you spend a lot of time fantasizing about this, little hunter,” Michael beams. “I know _all_ about your feelings for this vessel.” He plunges in deeper, harder, faster. “I know how you play with yourself at night, how you imagine this strong body… grinding and twisting over yours.” He ducks in closer, scratchy-soft lips brushing at yours. God, he even smells like Dean. “You should be thanking me. I’m only giving you what you’ve always wanted…”

He brings a hand to your throat, fingers loose and curled around the smooth curve of it. “You’ve been here before,” Michael gleams. “Haven’t you? In your dreams? You know - the ones that leave you slicked up and achy before you even rise for the day?”

Your belly tightens with every uttered syllable streaming over those plump lips, and you’re quickly growing icy-hot all over. “Nngh - No!” You manage with a tight breath, but you know Michael’s right, know there’s no use in denying something the Angel can see so clearly - not matter how deep you keep it locked away.

“Go ahead,” Michael whispers. “You can pretend it’s him breaking you. You can deny that you’re about to crack apart on _my_ fingers…”

You barely have time to suck in a breath when your orgasm hits, cunt clenching hard around those still-hammering fingers as the thick pad of his thumb smashes and _grinds_ over your swollen clit. His hand squeezes around your throat, just enough pressure to hinder your breathing - and it strengthens the climax, makes it _shockingly_ powerful; fiery waves rippling and rolling through you in searing, sugary bliss.

It takes you several moments to clear your vision, and you don’t even realize Michael’s backed away by the time you find him standing tall and square-shouldered again, index and middle fingers raised between you, glistening with his victory. He studies his own hand, grin crooked.

“See?” he says. “I’m all-knowing.”

You gape up at him, still panting, and he shuffles in close, eyes flicked down to yours. “That was just a taste.” Fresh dread settles icy in your gut when his hands drop to his belt. “Let’s see how many times you can scream before Sam wanders back, hmm?”


End file.
